


Smooth Sailing

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-23 00:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15594528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which the complexities of Solo Luck show themselves when Napoleon wins two tickets to a luxury cruise that he didn’t really want–-but for once, Illyadoeswant to indulge.





	Smooth Sailing

Napoleon sighed to himself as he walked under the night air, out on the deck of the cruise ship he and Illya were traveling on. A cruise wouldn’t have been his first choice to spend his vacation—not being fond of deep waters, Napoleon would have preferred to avoid boats of all kinds. But in a bizarre and yet classic example of how Solo Luck worked, Napoleon had won two cruise tickets in a door prize drawing—all expenses paid, including food, which Illya had insisted that they jump on.

“…I’d been hoping to win that European tour…” Napoleon had sighed.

“What do we need a tour for?” Illya had queried. “You and I have been all over Europe—multiple times!”

“True, but that was when we were on duty.”

“I can guarantee you, if we tried to go on a European tour, Mr. Waverly would find a way to reach us, and soon, we would find ourselves on a busman’s holiday,” Illya had pointed out. “Out on a ship, in the middle of the ocean? …Granted, he could still find a way to get us on a mission, but it would be far more difficult.”

Between that and the desire to partake in the buffets that the brochure had promised, Illya had seemed very intent on going—and Napoleon couldn’t help but agree in the end, knowing that Illya asked for very little, and these were, no doubt, well-earned comforts.

The stateroom had been luxurious, and the food had been excellent; Illya had found more than enough to feast upon, and Napoleon had to admit, it was nice to get away from the pressures of work, and to see his partner able to lower his guard and enjoy himself.

Illya had been eating a second dessert, and so Napoleon had taken a stroll on the deck to pass the time. The tropical air was warm, even at night; his Hawaiian shirt was open, fluttering slightly in the light breeze as he made his way to the bow of the ship.

Napoleon leaned almost artistically against the ship’s railing, as though posing for a painting in the moonlight.

Illya, who had just finished eating, decided to use his tracking device to find Napoleon, rather than go through the trouble of searching for him. He paused as he saw Napoleon leaning against the railing, and he smirked as he walked over to him, standing beside him.

“You really _can’t_ turn it off, can you?”

Napoleon glanced over at him, pausing as he saw the moonlight now fall on Illya—the silvery light illuminated his partner’s white polo shirt and yellow hair, make him seem almost like from another world.

“What?” Illya asked, seeing Napoleon staring at him in awe.

“You’re beautiful. Illya, I’m looking at you, and you look exactly like you did the moment I realized I was in love with you—the moonlight and everything.”

Illya blushed slightly.

“I was right… you can’t turn it off,” he managed to say, still blushing.

“Either you’ve got it, or you haven’t…” Napoleon said, sagely. “And you sure have got it…”

He gently placed his hand on the side of Illya’s face, lifting it slightly so he could kiss him.

“Do I look as otherworldly in this light, too?” Napoleon asked.

“ _Da_ , like something out of my dreams, during the days I could only hope that I would find true love…. And yet, you are far more beautiful than that!”

Now it was Napoleon’s turned to blush as he grinned. He drew an arm around Illya as the two of them now looked out onto the ocean.

“Admit it, Napoleon,” Illya said. “You are enjoying this cruise, and you are pleased I insisted that we come here.”

“…Yeah, alright, you win…” Napoleon conceded. “I’m enjoying it far more than I thought I would.”

“I’m glad,” Illya said, sincerely. “It is nice to finally share a vacation with you and have nothing interfere.”

“And the food is good…”

“…And the food is good,” Illya admitted. “Such a variety of food—and especially seafood! If only Baba Yaga was here…”

“She’d be just as nervous about the water as me,” Napoleon mused.

“You seem alright now,” Illya said. “Or are you concerned about it?”

Napoleon thought for a moment.

“You know, I think I _am_ alright,” he said.

Illya laced his fingers with Napoleon’s and smiled.

“I am very glad to hear that.”

Swing music suddenly started from beneath the deck they were standing on; the late-night dance had started in the grand ballroom of the ship.

“Ah, the party scene that you enjoy so much,” Illya observed. “Very well, shall we go to the ballroom and join them?”

Napoleon thought for a moment; his knee-jerk reaction would have been to say “yes” immediately. But, on the other hand, he was enjoying this beautiful, peaceful moment in the moonlight with his partner.

“In a little bit,” he said.

And so, the two partners continued to stay on the deck and talk, enjoying their moment of solitude—just them, the ocean, and the moonlight.

They had no need for anything else.


End file.
